I wanted nothing more than to be a mama. And here I am with the gift of interminable laundry, interminable dishes, interminable teenage hunger, socks, unheeded alarms and the other interminables and I forgot:
Sacrifice.
It's good. I have. I love. I may need only pay attention.
Sacrifice.
Modeled by the Patient, Loving One.
With blood and sore feet and holes in His hands.
I can face the interminable with great joy and know that it connects me, in some small sacrifice, to eternal Love.
Sacrifice.
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